


Better Cause

by mr_orange



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Canon Era, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything, Underage Drinking, but really subdued fluff, forreal this is shit it's just gay venting, greaser!soda, lesbian writes m/m fanfiction lmao, soc!steve, soda's drop out dilemma, they get a lil drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:27:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_orange/pseuds/mr_orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soda didn't regret his decision to drop out of high school. He'll miss seeing a certain Soc five days a week, though. Now the hard part: informing said Soc of his decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Cause

**Author's Note:**

> yo I wrote this a few months ago and convinced myself to finally do something with it. 
> 
> steve is a soc cool right?
> 
> title from thank you for the venom by my chemical romance

Soda didn't regret his decision to drop out of high school. He was dumber than a wet paper bag, and Darry couldn't pay for everything on his own. Pony was disappointed, sure, that he couldn't see his handsome older brother in the hallways, bouncing around and just radiating carefree. Hardly any of the gang went to school now and that made Soda worry for Pony, but it wasn't enough to change his mind. Besides, no one planned on messing with anyone sharing Darry's blood. 

The only thing Soda would miss though, was the pretty brunette Soc called Steve. Steve Randle. He was your typical Soc: He drove a mustang and wore button-up madras, he picked on greasers and had every adult in a ten mile radius wrapped around his finger. Soda loved that stupid Soc. His stupid dark hair that curled slightly at the ends, his stupid starched jeans that hugged his hips perfectly, his stupid plaid shirts he wore unbuttoned over a plain t-shirt, and his stupid smile with somewhat crooked teeth that just lit up any room and brightened everyone's day. 

Steve wasn't the brightest and had, fortunately, ended up in quite a few of Soda's classes. The greasers picked on Steve, seeing that the poor kid didn't have any of his Soc friends around. Soda liked that not even some of the harshest taunts shook Randle, and Randle never sent Socs after the commenters. Soda really liked that. He knew he couldn't trust any of Steve's kind, but Soda couldn't help but pine after him. 

So, Soda made a move, much to the annoyance of Dally who shared math with Soda. Flopping down in the desk next to Steve was easy, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning one elbow onto the desk itself, the other propped against the back of his chair. Seeing Steve roll his eyes and sigh in irritation sparked doubt in Soda; not easy. Steve hesitantly turned his head in Soda's direction, a flicker of something akin to awe sparking in his murky eyes. 

"I'm Sodapop," He introduced, flashing a sparkling grin and offering the Soc his hand. "Here to save you from your tormentors." 

Steve shook Soda's hand halfheartedly, rolling his eyes again, this time with a little more amusement than irritation. "Steve Randle. Thank you for your humble offer, but I can fend for myself, grease." He replied, holding Soda's hand longer than necessary. 

"That's what they all say." Soda snarked, feigning a serious tone. 

That's how the best relationship of Soda's life started. He never knew he was into guys until Steve came along. Girls threw themselves at the greaser all the time, and he never stopped to think about himself. He wasn't attracted to any of the girls. They were cute, sure, but so were kittens. Steve and Soda stuck close together in school, and Soda had even introduced him to Dally, Johnny, and Two-Bit. Two-Bit and Steve got along well, as if he were part of the gang. But Steve was a Soc, and at the end of the day, Steve's reputation mattered more than good friends.

Steve made it a habit to stop by the DX where Soda picked up a part time job. That's where they acted more like buddies, and not like a greaser protecting a Soc. Sometimes, Steve would help Soda fix up whatever junkie car had been brought in for repair. Soda loved those days. Steve was great with cars, his lips pursed while working and his eyebrows drew together in concentration. Soda tried his best not to stare when the Soc would roll up his sleeves to reveal tanned arms that were way too pretty to hide under ugly plaid shirts all the time. 

Eventually, these DX meetings didn't satisfy their need to see each other. Soda had told Steve that he was welcome at the Curtis house anytime, because his parents were fed up with just hearing stories about him. Yet, Steve declined, knowing all too well that his dad would be furious if he found out that his son was hanging around in greaser territory. So, they decided to meet at night, at the train tracks that divided the West side and the East side. They'd camp out in a stationary, desolate train car for hours, drinking beer Steve stole from his dad and telling stories. A few times, Soda brought a tag along from the gang. Two-Bit came the most, and Steve didn't mind because they were actually good friends now. Soda insisted Johnny hang out with them two or three times when Soda found the greaser bruised up in the lot while trying to get away from his dad. Johnny didn't say much, usually because it hurt to talk. 

Pony had followed Soda once. Steve did not like that. Steve did not like Pony. Soda laughed it off, and cut their meeting short to get Pony home and in bed, so he wouldn't be late for school in the morning. Steve definitely didn't like Pony. 

They loved meeting at night the best. Soda liked how the moon turned Steve's hair silver and his eyes reflected stellifer skies. Steve was...beautiful. Soda hated that realization. He never knew anyone could be this lovely without even knowing, besides maybe his mom. It hurt, the flutters in his gut when Steve laughed way too loud at one of his stupid jokes, and the smile that never left his face afterwards. When Steve had had a little too much to drink, he would get touchy with Soda. He'd sit too close, and he'd throw his arm over Soda's shoulder. He'd bury his nose in Soda's neck while laughing, using his other hand to hit Soda's chest. God, Soda loved that. 

One night, Steve got touchy with much less alcohol in his system. They both had their backs pressed against the wall of the train car, and Steve had his arm draped over Soda's shoulders. This time, Steve cracked a joke that had made himself just...howl with laughter. Soda relished in the expected contact of Steve's face buried in the crook of his neck. Again, there was not enough alcohol in either of them. Steve realized how close he was, and couldn't not act on the feelings that had been tearing him up since the day he met Sodapop Curtis. 

They'd both stilled significantly, coming down from the high of comedy. Soda noticed Steve lingering. Oh, he noticed. And then Steve was moving, his nose trailing over the skin of Soda's neck and his warm breath making the greaser weak and gooey. The pleasant feeling in his gut turned into a stabbing sensation. But like he was being stabbed with more pleasantries. Yeah. Steve stopped, with his nose pressed into Soda's jawline and his forehead resting against Soda's temple. And then their lips met and the stabbing sensation got ten times worse...or maybe better. They just stayed there like that, for what could've been a few seconds to a few hundred years. 

When it was over, both boys burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles that was so cute, the kittens from earlier might be jealous. And Soda rest his head on Steve's shoulder, and they went back to talking aimlessly. Soda eventually intertwined his fingers with Steve's free hand. It's safe to say, neither of them went home that night. Steve drove them to school (letting Soda out a block away so they wouldn't seem suspicious), and Soda got his ears yelled off by his parents, but nothing dulled his mood. 

Soda remembered that night briefly while trudging into the DX. He'd started working full time now, but he had yet to tell Steve that he'd dropped out. It had been about two months since the death of his parents, and his boyfriend had definitely noticed how little Soda was coming to school. Steve was in school now, probably suffering through his classes alone without Soda to ward off any greaser that looked at him wrong. That's what he liked thinking about. Steve. Not his parents, and how they're gone and never coming back. Steve had finally accepted Soda's offer to come over, mainly because he couldn't force himself to face the world without his parents, and Steve hated that. He'd held Soda well into the morning, while the devastated teen shook with tears that wouldn't fall. 

The day was uneventful, that is until lunchtime, when a familiar black mustang prowled into the DX parking lot and Soda straightened up from the tire he was changing on some tourist's car. Steve emerged from his car and slammed the door shut, leaning back against it and gazing at Soda.

"Why ain't you at school anymore?" He blurted. Soda sighed, rubbing his hands off on his ripped jeans and he joined Steve by his mustang. They were both silent, and Soda grabbed Steve's hand for his own comfort. 

"I dropped out." The blonde whispered. Steve nodded, squeezing Soda's hand reassuringly. 

"Okay." He breathed, smiling softly at Soda. "See you tonight?" Soda leaned his head on Steve's shoulder, kissing his neck, thankful that he didn't push any further. They moved away, and Steve got in his car, still holding onto Soda's hand. 

"You know it," He tried to smile, to reassure Steve that he'd be back to his old self soon enough. 

Neither of them believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it to the end, congratulations you're the strongest person I know go do something with your life man.
> 
> a majority of my writing is not only utter shit but usually really light-hearted with my lame attempt at humor so idk why this one turned out so subdued. anyways thanks for reading I have a lot of these drabbles in my notes and I'll probably post those so yeah checkit for jally and lams.


End file.
